My Umbrella on Rainy Days
by blueberryoreo
Summary: He was my umbrella on rainy days.
1. Chapter 1

**Hai! This is my second fanfiction (my first one being **_**Color of the Rain**_**), and this is a long first chapter. But warning: I usually do not write chapters as long as this.**

**But I will try to update at a reasonable time, and I do respond to reviews sometimes on chapters. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy! :)**

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_I never knew what a "normal" love story was. I never experienced that cliché story where a boy and a girl meet, they hit it off, heartbreak happens, someone discovers the truth, and voila! A happy-ever-after ending. And to be honest, I didn't really want one. People said my story started by destiny. Luck. Chance. Call it whatever you want, but my answer?_

_Nudge._

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**ONE**

"Ugh," I groaned as the alarm sounded repeatedly in the annoying way I hated. Why did morning always come so soon? It was summer break, yet Mom still didn't let me sleep past 9 A.M. because of swim practice.

"Max? You up yet?" Mom poked her head in through the door. "Pancakes are ready downstairs. Oh, yes, before I forget – Nudge called you, too. She said something about a concert, I think?"

I stopped moving. "Concert?" This was not good.

"I believe so. I really do think you should go, Maxie-pie. You need to get out more often, be more social," Mom replied, grinning at me. "Now, hurry up and get ready. Swim practice starts soon, and you know Coach James."

I was currently training for the next Southeastern Championship meet, where all the best swimmers from America would come and compete. It was a huge thing, and I wanted to do my best.

"Be right down," I called, and hurriedly put on some Nike shorts – the girl kind – and a Vandy Commodores tee. Comfortable. Nike was my favorite brand.

After breakfast, Mom drove me to practice. "Have a good practice – and remember to ask Nudge about that concert – I want to see you have some fun. Olivia will pick you gals up at eleven, 'kay?" Nudge's mom would be picking us up? Good… and bad… I waved bye, and ran inside the sports arena to the swimming pool.

"Max!" Nudge greeted, grinning.

I smiled. "Hey."

"Practice time, girls," Coach James interrupted, ushering us to go. Nudge's look promised to tell me later.

After practice - thank God, we had an easy one – our all-girls team got showered and dressed. In the locker rooms, Nudge proceeded to tell me about how she got rare tickets for Fang Cowan's you-just-have-to-see-it concert.

"He's gorgeous – and he's amazing at singing!" Nudge explained, grinning hopefully. "Please go with me? Please? It's at eight tonight!"

I wasn't a social outcast (I did listen to popular pop songs), but I hadn't really kept track of Fang Cowan's songs or his looks, so pretty much, I was clueless. "Uh, well…"

"Please? We'll have a lot of fun if we go," she pleaded, pulling puppy eyes on me. Oh, no. Not puppy eyes. She knew that was my weakness, yet she still did them.

"Fine," I grumbled quietly. "If it makes you happy." Nudge giggled a giggle that I did not particularly like.

On the phone at Nudge's house, Mom eagerly wished me to "have fun," giving her permission. Nudge proclaimed that we simply _had to_ get our outfits together – which I disagreed, but she refused to comply. I abhorred, absolutely _hated_ the mall – which was exactly where she dragged me into. She found me a pair of extremely short denim shorts (booty shorts, pretty much), a loose comfortable black-and-white striped tee (the ones where the top are wide and go to your shoulders – worn with a sports bra), and black flats.

"Nudge, I like the shirt and shoes, but the shorts make me look like a Lissa-slut," I offered.

"Okay, fine. You're right on that one. How about these?" She held up a pair of slightly longer dark blue denim shorts. I nodded, and we purchased my outfit.

Back at home, Nudge rustled into her outfit, while I put my usual bit of makeup on – mascara and a little lipstick. No more than that.

"C'mon, Max. We're in college. You can dress more slutty that that. You're gorgeous – show it, girl," Nudge complained, wrestling me to put some blush on my face. I won.

I stuck my tongue out at her. "I'm a little girl at heart." Nudge didn't need makeup. She was gorgeous, with smooth skin a shade lighter than cocoa, beautiful brown curly ringlets, and a perfect face.

At seven sharp, Nudge's mom, Olivia, drove us to the concert. "Have fun, girls. Nudge, you said Mimi was taking you home, right?"

"Yes," Nudge replied. "She'll drive us back."

"Okay. If you need me, I'll be with Valerie." My mom.

Nudge and I waved bye, and we went inside the gigantic building. According to Nudge, it was built just for Fang's performances. What a waste.

By ways I didn't even want to dream about, Nudge had managed to get us seats in the front. She wouldn't stop screaming before the concert started, but once the lights dimmed, and the whole arena was pitch black, everyone quieted down. Then, glowing lights appeared above us. They resembled twinkling little stars; it was a beautiful scene.

And then the main attraction came out. His hood was on top of a mess of black-brown hair, and he kept his face down at first, so I didn't get to see it, but he wore casual clothes – white, almost silver hoodie, black jeans, and Nike shoes. And then he lifted his face, and the whole world started screaming again.

"Yo," Fang said once it quieted down. And then, thanks to him, it started up again. I covered my ears, wincing at the roaring non-stop sound. Okay, he was hot – gorgeous, like Nudge said. A perfect face, dark and scary deep black eyes, and a good body. Yeah, he was damn hot. I'll admit, I had never seen someone so breathtaking before.

But he bothered me. I don't know why. His attitude… arrogant, cocky, way overboard. It just irritated me.

"Glad you could make it. First song is 'Teach Me How to Dougie'. For this special song, one special young lady will be picked to come up here and have the honor to perform with me. Let's see…"

You know that super cliche scene where someone famous chooses someone ordinary, and they hit it off and fall in love? Turns out I was that oh-so-special girl tonight. "Maximum Ride? Seat 17, I believe?"

I gaped at him like he was kidding. Fang simply smirked, turned to his manager and whispered something, and then confirmed, "Yeah, your name is Maximum, right? Jake checked your ticket."

"Well, _yeah_," I replied, "but maybe you should ask someone else–"

Fang grabbed my arm and pulled me upstage, dragging me while I glared intensely at him. Why me? Out of the whole stadium of screaming fans, he just had to pick me. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Oh, Max, I would love to be picked. Yes, you're a normal girl. I am not.

He held the microphone and began singing and rapping:

_Aye! Aye!_

_Teach me how to dougie (aye!)_

_They be like smoove (what?)_

_Can you teach me how to dougie?_

_You know why?_

_'Cause all the bitches love me (aye)_

_All I need is a beat that's super bumping_

_And for you, you, and you to back it up and dump it!_

_Put your arms out front, lean side to side_

_They gon be on you when they see you hit that dougie right_

_Ain't nobody fucking with my bro from morningside_

_He go by bubba and he hit that dance like thunder_

_I ain't from Dallas but I d-town boogie_

_I show my moves off, now errbody tryna do me_

_I leave the function and all the ladies tryna screw me_

_Now you just do you and I'm a do me (all day)_

_Niggas love to hate so they try to screw me_

_Bitches be stuck to me, I think they tryna glue me_

_I make the party shine bright when it started glooming_

_This beat was bubble gum so I had to chew it_

_Teach me how to dougie_

_Teach me how to dougie_

_Teach me how to dougie_

_Teach me how to dougie_

_All my bitches love me_

_All my, all my bitches love me_

_All my bitches love me_

_You ain't fucking with my dougie!_

_The name is Young!_

_For the dudes who don't know me_

_I know I'm from the West but I can teach you how to dougie!_

_Step up in the club and all these bitches bug me_

_All the niggas dancing, none of them know me_

_I hear the crowd screaming like "Aye! get it brody! "_

_So I'm on my shoulders and I take it real low_

_They like "How we do that? ", he can dougie on the floor_

_And when that nigga stop they like "Dougie, some more! "_

_I'm like a nigga kinda tired so, and I pass it to the bro!_

_M-bone! Show these cats how to do that down south dance_

_That we learned a little too fast and bought it to the hood_

_And got the whole crew ask_

_Back of the party I don't really like to boogie_

_I'm just tryna get bent and meet a thick redbone_

_(Mmm) we do the dougie and all them bitches hating_

_But I'm about to escape with a bitch and head home (fuck it)_

_She got her friend so it's a two man hand_

_I wanna run it even if her leg's long_

_She like you hubby, I think she love me but_

_I change the subject and I do my dougie_

_Cause I don't give a fuck, blow trees, get money_

_Me, Smoove heifen the back with playboy bunnies_

_We gon make 'em do the dougie in the middle of the bed_

_And when I asked for some head this bitch looked at me funny_

_Dahhhh! Bitch, you can't tell me nothing_

_Star made the beat, I just took it out the oven_

_I just see the dougie when everybody clubbing_

_And I hate skinny jeans 'cause the burner keep rubbin! (oh!)_

While singing, he did the moves behind me, smirking the whole time while I stood there like a gaping fish. I know – I'm smooth. But it was hilarious and well… hot, I guess, at the same time. Fang was a good singer, and he could dance.

"Teach me how to dougie, teach me how to dougie," he sang, grabbing both of my hands and forcing me to move with him. I couldn't help it – I laughed and went along. This was just so… awkward and out of the ordinary that it was hilarious.

"You finally smiled," Fang murmured so only I could hear.

I smirked, and I saw his eyebrow rise in a perfect arch. Obviously no girl had done that to him before. Well, he needed to realize I wasn't most girls.

When the song ended, I breathed a sigh of relief, glad it was over, and began to walk down to my seat, but he stopped me. "After concert's over, meet me outside," he muttered.

I blinked, and slowly watched him in confusion while walking back to my seat. What was up with this boy? First of all, his smiles were as rare as me joining cheerleading (ha!). And then he tells me to meet him outside.

I mean, seriously? Huh?

"Oh, my God!" Nudge whispered excitedly. "I think he likes you!"

I groaned, covering my ears. "Oh no. Don't start this again." Oh, the cliché "he likes you!" and "you should ask him out!" _This_ was why I didn't date. All the drama, jealousy, all that crap – I didn't need it. I was a single pringle, and I was proud of it.

"Max, you better meet him outside," she warned me dangerously. I raised an eyebrow, questioning how she knew what he said.

"Well, you know there is a video camera following his every move, right?"

I sighed. Of course. Now I knew why every girl was glaring at me like I had just dumped a bowl of ketchup over them. I had "stolen" their precious Fang.

"I'm not meeting him. I have no interest in him, nor he in me. He probably just wants to mock my dancing skills," I grumbled, squinting at Fang in contempt.

"Go, and I promise I'll make chocolate-chip cookies with you tomorrow if you do," Nudge offered, smiling evilly. No. She could not prompt cookies as a weapon. Chocolate-chip cookies were my heaven.

And they also happened to be my weakness. Yes, I know. The great Maximum Ride brought down by chocolate-chip cookies. Imagine that.

Nudge knew she had won, so after Fang finished his third song, which was the last one, she dragged me out and put me there, laughing traitorously the whole time. "Have fun, girl. I'll be inside with Mimi."

I sighed. I just wanted to get this over with. To my surprise, when I walked forward, I spotted Fang already waiting for me, back against the wall, sitting down, his hair covering his face so I couldn't see his expression. It was night, yet his white-silverish sweatshirt almost glowed.

"Hi," I started uncomfortably. Well, this was nice.

He didn't say anything, but he did lift his head up to acknowledge me. His eyes had a curious look in them, which I did not particularly like.

And apparently my instinct was right. His arm shot up and grabbed me down. I stumbled and fell to my feet next to him.

"So, Maximum Ride–"

"Max," I corrected habitually. "Sorry. It's a habit. That's what people call me."

"Max," he continued. "What would you do if I kissed you?"

I froze. "Well, you wouldn't, so it wouldn't be a problem, right?"

He pinned me to the grass as he stared at me, that curious expression still in his eyes. "What makes you say that?" He bent down slightly, his lips ready to say hi to mine.

Was he out of his mind?

Unfeeling, I whipped my hand with great force against his face that I heard the satisfying sound of skin on skin. In other words, I slapped him.

"Did you just slap me?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. You have to admit it was a pretty good slap," I replied, my nose scrunching up slightly as a small smile escaped from me.

Fang just shook his head at me, and I was startled to hear laughs coming out of him.

"Seems like I was right about you. You're not the usual girl," he said, getting up. He stuck his hands in his sweatshirt pocket.

"And you're not the usual famous teen singer," I retorted back.

He was already walking away, but when he heard me, he turned around, and I saw another thing that was rare. Fang Cowan was grinning, and as much as I hated to admit it, he had a killer smile. "It was nice meeting you, Maximum Ride."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, my fellow readers/reviewers! I hope you enjoyed your spring break! **

**Is there anyone else besides me that can't wait for **_**City of Bones **_**(Part of the Mortal Instruments series) movie to come out? I CANNOT WAIT! It better be incredible! :) **

**THANK YOU for the reviews! I really appreciate them; and to all the reviewers that asked if I was continuing this story… yes. I would tell you beforehand if it was a one-shot only. Again, thank you for reviewing!**

**TWO**

The next morning, when I came down to breakfast, I was greeted by a plate of waffles and a cup of chocolate milk – my definition of a perfect breakfast.

"Hey, honey," Mom said, coming into the kitchen. "Did you have a good time yesterday?"

Would you call slapping a famous singer a great time? "Um… sure."

She chuckled and brought the mail in. I scanned through them, flipping for any mail directed towards me. I almost spit out my chocolate milk when I read an eye-catching magazine cover. _Keep calm, Max. Don't freak out. _

"What is _THIS_?" I screamed – then covered my mouth with my grey sweatshirt sleeves. Good, Mom was already out. She would send me to a military school if she found out that I was on a tabloid cover, with my whole face available to the world.

On the front of read in huge block letters: **SECRET GIRLFRIEND SLAPS FANG COWAN!**

I wasn't Fang's girlfriend – forget about a secret one. How did the paparazzi know about me meeting Fang anyways? It had pictures of me slapping Fang and him almost kissing me. I hadn't recalled any flashes of cameras that night, but then again, I had been stunned and in disbelief the entire time.

I wasn't going to let this go. I was going to get this settled once and for all. Going to Fang Cowan's concert and almost kissing him had been one thing – this was another. I was not going to face all the rumors and chaos when I went back to Princeton after the break. Nudge might've enjoyed it, but I was not going to endure it.

"Mom, I'm going out with Nudge," I announced to her. She was organizing papers in her office for her job.

"Remember Olivia and Daniel are coming over tonight," she reminded me as I grabbed my jacket and car keys. I nodded and waved, running out the door.

Fang Cowan was in some deep trouble.

I called Nudge and explained to her about the incident. Together, we searched and found Fang's plaza-like skyscraper apartment he was staying at.

"He is from here," Nudge explained to me, "so I'm not surprised he has his own place. You probably have to say who you are before you go, though, and they'll ask Fang if he wants to see you."

"Snobbish jerk," I muttered under my breath as we went out the door. "Won't even answer his door."

Nudge gave me an amused look. "No, Max. It's more like he _can't_."

Only later, when I had reached his skyscraper apartment, did I realize what she meant.

Swarms of fans – mostly girls – were crowding around the entrance. The doorman and some security guards were trying to rein them in, but it was no use.

I whistled. "Is it like this every day?"

Nudge nodded. "Pretty much. Every time I pass here on the way to the mall, it's always like this. They're crazy."

I blew out a puff of air. "Well, then, we'll just have to be extra crazy."

She gave me a wary look. It was the look when she thought that I was completely out of my mind.

I strolled up, excusing a couple of fangirls out of the way. When I finally reached the doorman, he gave me an exasperated look. "I'm sorry, but you can't come in unless Fang wants to see you, and he said he's not expecting any people."

I smiled brightly. "Can you please tell him that Maximum Ride is here to see him?"

He sighed, but disappeared inside. He thought I was another crazy stalker that absolutely adored him and pictured him naked a billion times.

Boy was he wrong. When he came back, there was a curious expression on his face. "You may go in."

I thanked him and walked in. Hearing a huge roar of protest behind me, I couldn't help but turn around and smirk slightly at the crowd. Nudge grinned, seeing me. She would be waiting for me outside while I explained predicament to Fang.

When I reached his door, I rapped against the wood twice. The door opened, and Fang Cowan, in his full glory, stood before me. He wore a dark grey sweatshirt this time with athletic shorts and Nike sneakers. He cocked a perfect eyebrow at my cold expression. "What'd I do?"

It was such a simple and innocent question that it broke my mask, and a small traitorous laugh escaped out of my mouth. I bit my lip to regain my cover, but Fang had already seen it. He leaned his head against the doorway. "What?"

I shook my head. With an amused tint to his expression, he gestured for me to come in. I walked in awkwardly and looked around. I had to admit, it was a beautiful view. Almost every structure was made of glass. The whole wall looking out to the city was made of glass. I could only imagine the night view. This was my style of living – it was so light and airy and just… comfortable.

"You like it?" he asked, offering me a glass of water. We sat on the leather couch, facing each other.

"Thanks. And yeah," I replied. "It's a stunning view." I gazed outside. It _was_ pretty.

He smirked at my entrancement. "What'd I do?" he asked again, his hand against his chin, supporting it up.

I pulled out the magazine and placed it on the cover. It was enough. He stared at it. "Oh, crap."

"'Oh, crap,' indeed," I replied, crossing my legs. "So what do we do? I can't have this. I'm on break right now, so it's not as bad. But when I go back to college, I'll be the talk of the town."

"Talk of the college," he absentmindedly corrected, his eyes meeting with mine. "I'll call my agent. The magazine will be gone by tomorrow, but the rumor… I can't do anything about. I'm sorry."

He really couldn't do anything about the rumor. The magazine could be stopped, but you couldn't force somebody to stop talking and gossiping.

"I know," I said quietly, my eyes downcast. I had been angry on the way here, but now… now that I had actually thought about it, there was really nothing he could do about it. I would be the subject of fake gossip. "But can you stop the paparazzi from stalking me later?"

He nodded. "Give me your number. I'll text you later with some info."

I scribbled down my cellphone number and handed it to him. He gave me his as well.

"That's all I came for. Thanks," I said, standing up. He opened the door for me, and I left.

Outside, the mob was still there. A thousand glaring eyes pointed at me as I walked out. I ignored them. Nudge was waiting at the tree. "How'd it go?"

"Eh," I responded, shrugging. "He said he'll stop the magazine, but there's nothing anyone can do about the rumor. It's already there. He wanted my number, too, and he said he'll text me later about the progress or something."

Nudge put her arm around me sympathetically. "Look on the bright side. You got to meet a _hot _celebrity and almost got kissed by him. Not everyone can do that. You're lucky, Maxie. Plus, he has your number!" She grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "Let's go."

At home, Mom was cooking. Nudge and I ran up to my room and talked about our lives (mine currently depressing). Nudge's mom would be here any minute now.

"Hold on, I gotta go pee," Nudge said, jumping off of my bed and dashing to the restroom.

I laughed at her hurried movements and flopped onto the soft and squishy bed. In my pocket, my phone vibrated twice, causing a numb, funny feeling against my skin. I pulled it out and checked to see who it was. Fang. Two messages.

My eyes widened at the text.

_You don't seriously believe I got your number just to tell you some information, right?_

For some reason, I grinned at the next text.

_Never mind. You probably do._

A second later, a new one popped up.

_You still don't realize… jeez, you're going to make me say it. Maximum Ride, will you go out on a date with me?_

My jaw dropped open. Nudge strolled in, and stopped at my stunned expression. "What's wrong? What happened?"

I swallowed. "Um, well, uh… I think Fang Cowan just asked me out."


End file.
